The Edge of June
by Alias III
Summary: It's only a matter of time before Remus is thrown to the mercy of the Ministry, like all others of his kind. MWPP fourth year


A/N: This is a very random and slightly AU-ish fic. It just jumped into my head earlier today when I went to write chap. 11 of _Granted Wishes_. I seriously doubt that it's actually canon-compliant, even though we don't know what Remus's childhood was really like, or when his parents died (I'm assuming that they are dead because he did not spend Christmas with them), hence the AU-ish-ness. Anyway I think it's at least a reasonably interesting and quick read, if nothing else.

**The Edge of June**

Remus had tried with all his might to dig his heels in and keep time from progressing, but the days kept coming, bowling him over with each sunrise, with each chime of the clock. And then the castle filled with excited chatter about the last week of school, about the coming summer holiday, trips to the beach or the Continent, ice cream on warm afternoons, endless daylight for pick-up games of Quidditch. Some talked about summer jobs with mixed feelings, the appeal of extra gold, the sacrifice of doing nothing particular. Remus had always helped his mother in the shop, but this summer there was no more shop, no more mother or father. The sting hadn't gone away since the news came in November, since he'd seen the remains of the store and the twin, closed coffins, but he had got tired of feeling it. He'd even started to laugh with his friends again, to help with their mischief. He could feel all right sometimes, like maybe there was some hope for the world and some things that weren't destined to be destroyed.

Except that summer was coming. He stood so close to the edge of it that he knew he'd fall over any day now and topple onto the _Hogwarts Express_, whether or not he packed his trunk or did his homework or sat at the leaving feast. Perched on the end of June like this, the fight had gone out of him. He found himself just staring, waiting for the final push.

This was what brought his kind to Fenrir Greyback. Children with curses that sickened their own parents, children who were told that they would have done society a favor by dying. Passed from one Ministry Department to the next, Someone Else's Problem, a great and terrible menace to everyone. Remus's parents had protected him from all of that, had told him he was still worth their love, no matter what happened. They had done the unthinkable and assumed that he was still just a boy, they had told him, shown him, that he was more important to them than anything else in the whole world, money, friends, their lives.

They were the only ones, of course. Summer loomed a week away, and he was in line just ahead of the goblin plague for an open home. Two months in Ministry care, then, with their dank cells and edgy, angry employees. Maybe…maybe it was all for the best. His parents had shielded him from so much. For once, he would see what the others endured, and all of them without the saving grace of Hogwarts waiting just weeks away. All without a friend in the world, until someone like Greyback came along and pulled them from whatever crevice they'd found to sleep in, gave them something to eat and a sympathetic ear, showed them that they were neither alone nor powerless.

He nearly yelped when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned from the common room window, bringing his mind back to school and sunny days and the feeling of excitement thrumming through the students. Evans frowned at him, but he cleared his expression, remembering that lighter things existed in the world and remained in his grasp.

"Are you all right?" Evans asked, and Remus wondered if she would ask that, or touch him so easily, if she knew.

"I was just thinking."

She opened her mouth, and he could see words of comfort forming in her eyes.

"Did you need something?" he asked before she could speak.

Her mouth snapped closed and she straightened slightly, as though suddenly remembering that this was one of _Potter's_ friends. "Dumbledore's sent for you. He's in his office."

"Thank you," he said as she turned to leave. She paused just long enough to tell him that he was welcome.

The gargoyle guarding the stairwell to Dumbledore's office already stood to the side of the entrance, so Remus walked right in. He made a point of checking his expression and straightening his tie on the way up. When he got to the door, he knocked twice before letting himself in.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, but there were two people sitting in front of it, too. With a cold stab of panic, Remus throught they might be from the Ministry, but he realized he knew both of them.

"Mister Potter, Missus Potter, hello. Er, d'you want me to come back later, Professor? Or I can get James. He's out on the Quidditch pitch, I think."

Actually, Remus didn't know where his friends were. They'd all made a number of excuses after classes, but he hadn't paid much attention; they had a habit of disappearing. He had a theory that James and Sirius did this to hide the fact that they actually studied once in a while; he'd caught them both three times in dusty corners of the library, bent over big, ragged tomes, speaking in low tones or taking down notes. Sometimes he suspected that they just wanted to get away from the boring werewolf, but he would rather ignore that possibility.

"We've come to see you, actually, Remus," Mrs. Potter said with her usual kind smile.

"Oh. All right." Remus walked to the third chair that Dumbledore had just conjured and sat down.

"Professor Dumbledore has just explained your…situation to us," Mr. Potter said.

Remus felt his insides contract and looked at the Headmaster, who smiled.

"Not to worry, no ill has come of it. Quite the opposite. Mister and Missus Potter have agreed to become your legal guardians."

Remus's insides contracted a little more, but from disbelief more than fear. He changed his gaze to the Potters, whose smiles had widened.

"We'll need to make the proper arrangements, of course, for, er…" Mrs. Potter faltered and made a vague gesture with one hand.

"The full moon?" Remus said. He wondered how long it would take them to become comfortable with discussing things like that.

"The full moon, yes." Mrs. Potter looked relieved to have a relatively benign name put to it.

"We've got a space we think will do all right, but we'd like you to tell us what you think when you come. There are still two weeks, aren't there?" Mr. Potter asked.

"Sixteen days. But it has to be far away from the house. Otherwise, a Ministry facility would be—"

"Oh, tosh," said Mrs. Potter. "I've seen those Ministry facilities. Awful places. No, we can find something much better, I'm sure."

"With all due respect, Missus Potter, it's really more important that I can't harm anyone."

"If it becomes an issue, the Shrieking Shack is always available for your use, Remus," Dumbledore said.

"Thank you, sir. And thank you, very much, Mister Potter, Missus Potter. This…it really means a lot to me." He tried to find something else to say, to express his gratitude, but the Potters beamed at him, and he hoped they had got the idea.

"There's nothing to thank, Remus," Mr. Potter said. "It's only a shame this all had to be done so delicately, so much in secret. This could have been done months ago."

"I'm sure both of you can appreciate the care that had to be taken with this matter," Dumbeldore said.

Mrs. Potter nodded. "I can only imagine, if the wrong people found out. No, this way is for the best. We'll have it straightened out with the Ministry by the end of the week. And Remus, we'll see you at King's Cross."

"Yes, ma'am, thank you."

Mr. Potter cleared his throat. "There is just one other matter. Does James understand your situation?"

"If you mean, does he know I'm a werewolf—" he noted that neither of the Potters flinched "—yes, he does." He glanced at Dumbledore. "They all do, since second year, when they figured it out."

Dumbledore offered no reaction, except to look approving.

"Clever boy, our son," Mr. Potter said. "And a good lad."

Mrs. Potter nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. So there'll be no awkwardness between the two of you."

"No, ma'am."

"Very good." Mr. Potter stood, leaning heavily on his cane, before helping his wife to her feet by the elbow. "It's nearly time for dinner. Elsie and I will meet you boys down in the Great Hall. I'm afraid these old joints don't move like they used to, otherwise we'd come with you to the common room."

Remus nodded, thanking the Potters again and shaking their hands—Mrs. Potter looked like she wanted to give him a hug, but restrained herself—before being shooed from the office to collect his friends. On the way down the steps, he let out a breath that he must have been holding for days, weeks. The world looked no happier, and the day grew no brighter, but his feet found solid ground, and he felt steadier. Some of his anger and confusion seeped out of his shoulders, and July didn't look so bad.


End file.
